


Shall We Begin?

by astudyinrose



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinrose/pseuds/astudyinrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk is unable to clamp down on his anger towards his new prisoner, Khan, even when they are back on the Enterprise. But when he enters the holding cell, he gets much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall We Begin?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to queenofmoriarty and lovelysherlock for being excellent betas as usual!

The dry, barren air of Kronos blew across Kirk’s face in hot tendrils. Dirt and fragments of the ruins fell around them, making it hard to breathe. Kirk’s whole body ached in his crouched position, especially with what were certainly cracked ribs, and his head had nearly been smashed in by a Klingon weapon.  He was in a haze, yet he watched in awe as the hooded figure in front of him continued to fight unerringly-- he never tired, never got injured, never hesitated. He fought with weapons that would normally be carried by two men, swinging them as if they weighed nothing. He turned and fired faster than Kirk could blink and with seemingly inhuman strength, his sculpted form almost like that of a Greek god. He decimated dozens of Klingon warriors and vessels swiftly and without remorse. At some point he pulled the mask covering his mouth and nose down, and Kirk’s whole body filled with rage, though he had known the figure’s identity already. It was the face of the man from the helicopter back at headquarters. The man who had killed Pike and so many other innocent people back on earth. Harrison. 

He jumped down from his vantage point, continuing to fight along the way. Once all of the Klingons were completely decimated, he strode towards them, his phaser pointed towards them. “How many torpedoes?” he demanded.

“Stand down!” Spock yelled, and Harrison shot his weapon away without even looking.

“The torpedoes, the weapons you threatened me with in your message, how many are there?”

“72,” Spock responded tersely after a moment.

Harrison stared at them for a moment, then said, “I surrender.” He threw down his gun, his black fringe falling into his face, and all three of them gaped at him incomprehensibly. 

Kirk’s entire consciousness completely disintegrated. He barely heard the sound of the wind blowing through the ruins, or felt the exhaustion in his muscles. The only thing he could see was Harrison, and the only thing he felt was the absolute rage suddenly coursing through him.

He stood, his calves shaking with effort as he rose, and he clutched his ribs. Harrison continued to stare at him.

“On behalf of Christopher Pike, my friend, I accept your surrender.”

Then Kirk punched him. Harrison’s expression remained completely blank. Kirk punched him again, and again, and again. The pale, cold face remained completely unflinching, showing absolutely no pain. Kirk was vaguely aware of someone shouting behind him, but he didn’t care. All he saw was Pike’s blank face, the blood, the screams, the smell of burning flesh from the attack.

Finally Kirk fell down with the effort of his own assault, and as he stood (not without effort), Harrison’s indifferent face-- now with a hint of amusement-- was still fixed on him.

“ _Captain_ ,” Harrison said, his lips curling into a slight grin.

Kirk’s entire body was exhausted, and he could barely keep himself upright. But those taunting eyes held his gaze unflinchingly. _You son of a bitch._

 

* * *

_A few hours later_

 

Kirk and Spock had started walking away from Khan's holding cell when he called out after them. 

“Ignore me and you will get everyone on this ship killed… just like your Starfleet officers. There was one in particular whom you had a certain… fondness for, I believe? Almost like the father you never knew?”

Kirk stopped short, his back still to the brig. Khan was baiting him, he knew. And it was working.

“Captain, I would not recommend engaging the prisoner further,” Spock said in his usual even tone. 

“Give me a minute.”

Spock hesitated momentarily, then left the room.

Kirk strode back over to the holding cell. Khan’s smile was sickening. Kirk balled his fists at his sides. 

“Lieutenant.”

“Captain?” The brig attendant swiveled towards him.

“Leave. Turn off the cameras in the brig. I don’t want a recording of this.” He continued to stare into the cold, lucid eyes in front of him, unable to break the gaze.

“Sir?”

“ _Just do it.”_ He heard the powering down of the camera circuit around him, which included several lights, and swift footsteps leaving the room.

Kirk walked over to the panel on the side of the cell, punching a few buttons and opening a small doorway before stepping inside. The glass closed behind him in the now-gloomy cell, which gave the room a clandestine effect. Now there was only silence, and the dark-clothed, broad-shouldered figure in front of him. Harrison’s pale face almost seemed to float iridescently in the half-light, and his lumious eyes were the only discernible thing in the room.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Kirk took a few steps towards the prisoner, his eyes raking over Khan’s unblemished form. He looked like he had never seen a battle in his life, let alone taken on dozens of well-trained Klingon soldiers mere hours ago. Kirk’s own head and chest were still aching, and his fist burned with the memory of impact with that steely jaw. Yet all he yearned to do was punch him a dozen more times.

As if reading his mind, Khan’s lips curled up into a grin. “Oh _C_ _aptain_ , are you going to punch me again, over and over, until your arm weakens? Clearly you want to.” His eyes, like ice, swept down Kirk’s form.  “Though your efforts thus far to injure me have been… somewhat futile.”

“Shut. Up.” Kirk stood immobile, not without effort. “You are a criminal. You are only alive because I am allowing it. So _shut your mouth.”_  

Khan’s lips turned upward into a smile again, which caused Kirk to fight back another wave of nausea. Khan took a long-limbed step towards him.

“You know, I _am_ better at everything, including registering emotions, desires and motivations. Yours are… conflicting.” 

“Oh? How is that?” Kirk said through clenched teeth, his blue eyes flashing. 

Khan raised an eyebrow. “Obviously, you have a desire to hurt me again. Your blood is positively boiling. But you are also…”

“What?”  Khan’s lips twitched, and he stepped even closer until he loomed over Kirk. 

“Go ahead,” Khan said, quietly. “I won’t stop you. At least _you’re_ putting up a fight, unlike all your so-called _officers_.”

Kirk couldn’t hold it in anymore. He grabbed Khan’s hair with one hand and punched his face, again and again, until his knuckles cracked and bled. Khan remained stationary, as if he barely registered that Kirk was using all of his strength.

Finally Kirk snarled with rage, bending down and shouldering Khan in the stomach. Khan’s body caved, taking the blow easily, and he was pushed back up against the wall. Kirk raised his fist again, but this time Khan grabbed both of his hands in a flash of movement. Before Kirk knew what was happening, Khan swiftly switched their positions so that Kirk was up against the wall, cornered.

“You fucking _bastard,_ ” Kirk spat. He tried to wrench himself free, to no avail.   _Shit, I'm such an idiot,_ Kirk thought. _Now there's no one outside to call for help._  

Khan’s lips slid into a grin again. “Is this how you always treat prisoners? Surely this is against Starfleet regulations. Hence the fact that you had the cameras turned off. But I think there’s another reason you came in here, _Captain_.” He stepped closer. Kirk struggled again, but it was somewhat less frantic. Khan’s hands had a vice-like grip on his wrists, and it would take a lot more than that to free himself.

Khan was only inches from his face. Even at a further distance, his eyes held a kind of magnetic quality that made it difficult to look away. This close, it was increased tenfold. Though his eyes felt completely and utterly devoid of emotion, there was something in them that made it impossible for Kirk to break the gaze, almost like they were a black hole. Mesmerizing yet empty. 

“You know, I have the ability to see the exceptional in most ordinary humans. There are none that are my equal, of course. I was, after all, genetically engineered to be better at everything. But there are some of you who are superior to the rest of your kind.” Kirk glared at him, not sure what else to do at this point. The tall, sculpted figure before him wasn’t going to let him move. 

Khan continued to stare at him without blinking, then released Kirk’s hands. Kirk took the opportunity to hit him with the back of his hand, which was all he was able to manage at such a short distance and with his back still against the wall.  Khan stayed immobile as if it had been nothing but a slight breeze.  Kirk was starting to wonder if he wasn’t human. 

“Captain,” he said again, nodding slightly. It always felt like a slight whenever he said the word, condescending, almost as if it were a derogatory term instead of one of respect. It only caused Kirk’s wrath to boil over once again.  

His teeth gritted, he reached up to grab Khan by the hair, the only thing that was within reach. As he made the attempt, Khan grabbed both of Kirk’s hands and slammed them up over his head, pinning them. Khan stepped even closer to him so that their groins were now touching. Kirk could feel Khan’s hot breath on his face.

Kirk growled with frustration, and Khan’s grin was only inches from his face.  “I think you came in here for _this_ , Captain.”

He twisted his hips slightly so that their hips ground against each other, and Kirk groaned slightly as he felt the friction between their growing erections. His body was betraying him in a way his mind couldn’t fathom. _Fuck. Keep your wits. Don’t let him get to you._ He bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood.

Khan’s lips twitched upward again as he reached down and slid his free hand over Kirk’s pants, palming his erection in agonizingly slow strokes. Kirk elicited another moan as his cock hardened further; the momentary clarity from biting his lip was now gone. Kirk’s mind was starting to go into a sort of haze, the fury and desire completely twisting each other into something new and eradicating rational thought.

Khan leaned inward, so that his mouth was against Kirk’s ear. “You see? _Conflicting_. Shall we begin?” he said in his deep-tenored voice, which seemed to vibrate through Kirk’s body as Khan pushed his hand down into Kirk’s trousers, undoing the buttons as he went. 

Once Kirk’s cock was free, Khan started to stroke it up and down, roughly, hard, almost to the point of pain but not quite, and Kirk’s knees started to buckle underneath him.  Khan held him up with one hand as he continued to stroke and twist, then ripped back the collar of Kirk’s yellow shirt (the fabric split) and started biting the nape of his neck. Kirk’s eyes were closed, but it was no longer deniable that he was completely and utterly aroused. He was barely aware that his hands were now free and they were scrabbling over Khan’s upper arms. They were ridiculously muscular considering that the man had been in cryo-freeze for hundreds of years.  _Stop thinking about his muscles. What the hell is the matter with you?_   _  
_

Khan pulled back, then leaned in to smash his lips against Kirk’s, and for a moment Kirk forgot who this was and what he had done. His animalistic urges took over and his hips surged against Khan’s hand while their tongues tangled together recklessly. Khan’s body was like a furnace, as if it were making up for years of being frozen by giving off an abnormal heat. The kiss was deep, feral, and each of them was fighting for control. He pulled Khan’s neck towards him as he moved forward until he was practically grinding against Khan, and he could feel the full lips slowly turning upward under his.

For a split second Kirk became aware of his surroundings again, and he made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat as he bit Khan’s lip, hard. Khan pulled back instantly, his lip reddened but the skin unpunctured, despite how deeply Kirk had bitten him. He was breathing raggedly and his pupils were blown wide and dark.

He raised a hand to his lip. “Is this you fighting back, _Captain_?”  

“Shut _up_ ,” Kirk growled, and he reached down with both hands to pull Khan’s zipper down. He pushed one hand downward as he ran his other over Khan’s chest. Khan closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly. 

Kirk finally pulled Khan’s cock out of his trousers and started stroking it, pulling the budding wetness from the top downward. He leaned forward to bite and suck at the hollow of Khan’s throat. He could hear Khan's heavy breathing as he teased him over and over again. 

Eventually Khan pushed Kirk’s hands down, steadying himself on the wall with one hand and opening his eyes. Kirk almost had to stop himself from hitting that perfect face again-- his eyes were ravenously dark, and his high cheekbones were flushed. Slowly, Khan held his hand up and licked it, his long tongue dragging across it (which caused Kirk’s breath to hitch), then he gathered both of their erections into one hand. He stroked them both upward in one long, agonizing pull, without breaking his gaze. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Kirk hissed. 

“Language, Captain,” Khan chuckled into his ear, his warm breath causing a shiver to run through Kirk’s body. He started rutting against Kirk, and Kirk held one of Khan’s shoulders for balance.  His other hand moved up under Khan’s shirt, running up his flat stomach and chest.

“Have you thought about this ever since you first hit me on Kronos, Captain? Did that rage make you want to bend me over and fuck me against the cold hard rock?” Khan’s voice was silvery, quiet, yet completely aggressive at the same time.

“Shut… up…” Kirk moaned. The mental image of that made him even harder. “You have no _idea_ what I was thinking, you bastard.” _You killed hundreds of people without a second thought. I wanted to kill you too._

Khan started thrusting with more fervor, and with so much strength that Kirk was starting to lift off the ground, so he steadied himself with one hand against the wall. They were rutting so hard, their hips grinding against each other, that it was almost to the point of pain.

“I think you did. I think you wanted to hurt me in more ways than one. I think you wanted to tie my hands behind my back and pound me over and over. Isn’t that right, _Captain_?” 

“Oh, _god_ ,” Kirk gasped, unable to even form a coherent sardonic response. His hand was scrabbling, trying to seek purchase on the smooth wall behind him. Khan reached up with his free hand and pressed his palm against Kirk’s hand to hold him steady, and Kirk wound one leg around the back of Khan’s calves. With this newfound stability, Khan thrust his hips upward even more vigorously, panting, their cocks sliding against each other with just the right amount of friction. Kirk let his head fall back against the wall, groaning, his eyes closed as his hips rocking upward in rhythm. 

“What would your crew think of you fraternizing with the enemy like this, Captain?” 

Kirk held back a retort as Khan leaned forward to bite his shoulder through the ripped fabric, causing Kirk to hiss again in pain and pleasure. Khan’s hip thrusts became even more quick, and Kirk knew he was getting close, so he drove his hips forward even more. 

Khan thrust upward in a final push, and they both came in a rush of adrenalin, Kirk clapping his hand over his own mouth to muffle the sound of his yell. 

After a moment, Khan stepped backward, wiping his hand on the back of his shirt. He pulled himself back into his trousers and ran his hand through his dark hair.

“Well, _Captain_ , that was quite… exceptional,” he said in his cool, deep voice. He already looked completely normal, standing with his feet apart, relaxed, barely a hair out of place. If it weren’t for the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, no one would ever think that anything had occurred. 

Kirk, on the other hand, was completely wrecked. His limbs felt like gelatin, and he was still slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. He slowly raised himself to his full height, tucking himself back into his pants and rebuttoning them. He had to steady himself against the wall as he checked his shirt-- ripped. Bite marks on his shoulder. His gaze slowly moved back up to Khan’s, and for a moment they continued to stare at each other, unblinking.

Finally, Kirk cleared his throat and strode across the cell. As he started punching buttons on the wall monitor to exit the cell, Khan grabbed him by the arm with one hand and the back of the head with the other. He pulled Kirk forward until their lips met in searing concert, and Kirk’s logical brain lost the battle of wills once again. Their tongues twisted together furiously until it felt like they were devouring each other.  

After a few moments, Khan shoved him backward again, and Kirk tried to keep himself upright, slightly bewildered. Khan’s lips twitched upward into his half-grin, and Kirk turned his back before anything else could happen, opening the cell and closing it behind him. 

Kirk strode over to the console, punching on the commands to turn the lights and cameras on. He attempted to smooth his hair down as he turned on the comm. “Lieutenant, need you back here.” He paused. 

“Yes, sir, right away.” Kirk stood and turned his back on the brig again, his stomach starting to twist in remorse, disgust, and regret. _Dammit. Dammit. Manipulative bastard. I should never have gone in there. Now he has the upper hand, thinks he has dominated me._ His shirt was ripped beyond repair, and the crew-- at least Spock-- would wonder what had occurred in this room when the cameras were off.

“Goodbye, then, _Captain_.” The silky voice behind him caused Kirk to pause, a deep flush radiating from his neck and up to his face. Without turning around, Kirk strode from the room.

 

 


End file.
